


Thursdays and Saturdays

by navaan



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bat Family, Ficlet, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Off screen non-major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max always came down to the community center every day of the week, but she liked Thursdays and Saturdays best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursdays and Saturdays

**Author's Note:**

> Off screen non-major character death. Ages ago Mithen asked us at Superhero-muses to [create an OC](http://superhero-muses.livejournal.com/150369.html) and for some reason the little girl stayed with me and I wanted to give her at least a short story.   
> Written for Bradygirl_12's [2015 DCU Fic/Art Dick Grayson Diamond Anniversary](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/1127639.html)

Max always came down to the community center when she could, sometimes every day of the week, but she liked Thursdays and Saturdays best. Coming down here was better than sitting at home, listening to the old lady from down the hall warn her about the dangers of life in their neighborhood, better than waiting for her mum to get home late from work, checking her over with sad eyes. There was nobody at home to play with anymore. And here there were other kids here, she told her mum, and grown ups that made sure none of them got into trouble.

In Gotham, she knew, you didn't actually need to look for trouble to get killed.

Half a year ago it had been her, Jerome and mum living happily together in their small flat. Now Jerome was gone. And her big brother had never gone looking for trouble. He'd been the best.

Her mother used to smile a lot. Now her smiles were rare. But when Max told her about what was going on at the community center, she smiled sometimes and kissed her brow. “You miss him,” she said, because she understood. Jerome had always been around to play with her, to teach her how to throw a ball right, how to climb a fence, how to get dirty in the park. All the things in life that were worth knowing she'd learned from her brother. “Keep going, Max. It's good for you.”

It wasn't always though, but she never told her mum about that.

“Sorry,” the biggest boy said in a tone that let her know he wasn't sorry at all, “girls can't play.” He nodded over at a group of girls, talking with each other. This was where she belonged, it meant.

“That's a rubbish rule,” a grownup voice said behind her. The boys froze in their tracks, the basketball falling to the ground. She knew who was standing behind her, without turning around.

“Sorry, Mr. Grayson,” one of the boys mumbled, as the man stepped around her, winking at Max as he went to get the ball. 

“Why don't we all play together?”

There was a reason she liked Thursdays and Saturdays best. 

They let her play. She was nervous and self-conscious. The ball slipped from her fingers, but there were no snide remarks. Another girl joined in. The game was fun, when she felt comfortable and relaxed into the game. The girl Maria wasn't easily cowed, snapping sharp remarks at Tommy when he was out of line. She laughed. It really was fun. Not as fun as playing with Jerome, maybe. But she had forgotten how much fun it could be.

She followed when Mr. Grayson excused himself. He was giving lessons in the gym every Thursday and Saturday. Everyone knew he had been an acrobat once, but watching him, move and jump and land was always a sight. He also was a patient teacher. Kids, young and old, loved him.

Max never joined in. She sat down on a bench at the side and pretended to read a school book, working on her homework assignments.

“Hey,” he said, after the lesson was over and she was still sitting there. He had a towel hanging around his neck, his hair slightly wet with sweat. He still looked friendly though. “You're Max, right?”

She knew she'd never introduced herself, but nodded, wide eyed. He'd been aware of her all this time?

“Want to try?” he nodded at the high bar. “There's nobody there to see you.”

“No,” she said and shook her head. “Nothing else to wear but this.” She looked down at her too long jeans and heavy sweater.

“You always watch,” he pointed out. “I know you do. How about next time?”

“Maybe,” she said.

“I'll ask again on Saturday.” It sounded like a promise. He patted her head affectionately - the way Jerome would have done - and grinned as he walked out.

There was a reason she liked Thursdays and Saturdays the best.

* * *

“What's with the little girl?” Tim asked as they walked to the car together.

“Her brother was shot last year,” Dick said. “Gang shooting. We weren't around to stop it.”

“We can't be everywhere.”

Dick smiled. “We sure seem to be trying.”

It startled a short, barking laugh out of Tim. The last few nights had been stressful for the whole family. The cold and the rain always made it worse somehow, Gotham's criminals suddenly coming up with the weirdest schemes. “So, you're just keeping an eye on her?”

“We all know what it's like to lose family.”

“Yeah,” Tim agreed with a sad frown and cocked his head to the side. “Yeah. Maybe I could come along on Saturday.”

Dick grinned. Sometimes it was important to remind yourself that you didn't need a mask and costume to do some good.


End file.
